


so cold and so sweet

by glacecherie



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacecherie/pseuds/glacecherie
Summary: He heard Auston draw a sharp breath. His hand dropped a little, cupped Mitch's cheek, and he'd just been so completely taken with him that he'd pressed his lips to the pad of his thumb, rough against his mouth.There'd been 3 heartbeats worth of dead silence, punctuated only by the tumble drier whirring and the blustering wind outside. Mitch knows, because he'd counted them, a tiny fraction of a moment crystallising.[or: Mitch finally gets a fucking clue.]





	so cold and so sweet

**Author's Note:**

> [title from never let me go by florence and the machine]

The first time Auston kisses him, it's such a cliche moment. Everything goes - not in slow motion exactly, but very quietly.

It hadn't really been a romantic setting; his kitchen isn't special, and shaking the snow off their clothes in the hall didn't add to it. He'd been putting their stuff on the radiator to dry, and they'd laughed because both their fingers were too numb to do it, scarves falling to the floor and getting tangled together.

"Last time I go shopping in winter with you, dumbass." Auston said, trying to warm himself back up, and then Mitch insulted Arizona, which descended into shoving each other as they headed into the kitchen to find snacks (diet plan whom?) and -

Look, Mitch isn't _trying_ to be oblivious, because they're hockey players, and rough housing each other as a show of affection is par for the course, but. He really hadn't clocked how the moment shifted into something else until he tripped and Auston caught him, hand cupped round the back of his head to stop him smacking it into the doorframe.

Which had meant Auston had him sort of pressed against the wall, big hands holding him so gentle and _protective_ that it made his chest squeeze and - he'd just got this feeling. This sense of now or never.

Mitch had unclenched his fingers where they'd been digging his nails into his palms without him realising and reached up, burying them up under Auston's hoodie until they were pressed against his back and all he'd thought was _you're so fucking warm_ and _please please please._

It had been a long time coming (in his mind, anyway) and he heard Auston draw a sharp breath. His hand dropped a little, cupped Mitch's cheek, and he'd just been so completely taken with him that he'd pressed his lips to the pad of his thumb, rough against his mouth.

There'd been 3 heartbeats worth of dead silence, punctuated only by the tumble drier whirring and the blustering wind outside. Mitch knows, because he'd counted them, a tiny fraction of a moment crystallising.

Auston had made a noise, something _desperate_ and small, then leant in slow, and Mitch had just.

Tilted his head up. Gave in. It hadn't been fast or frantic, they weren't grabbing at each other in desperation. Just an almost chaste, syrupy slow press of their lips, then another, then Auston stroking at the sharp line of his jaw, like he was asking to kiss deeper which - like Mitch was gonna turn that down, _dear god._

He'd felt that one all the way down to his toes, and it was almost intoxicating to kiss that unhurried. His head had swam and his Auston's breath was choppy when they parted.

"I've -" he'd began, and Mitch cut him off.

"-so fucking long, Matts, I -"

"Yeah, fuck. So long. Months since."

Mitch had smiled, watery. He'd slumped into Auston then, partially relief, partially hiding how his eyes prickled.

Auston wrapped him up in his arms, hand firm on his nape.

"Months too long." He'd murmured, quiet enough that it was more to himself than anything, and Mitch had clung tighter. His tee smelled like Mitch's laundry detergent and his own shower gel, and he could connect the dots now. That sensation - how he felt about Auston - was the reason he always linked that same smell to home.

Outside, the wind kept howling, and the dryer kept on whirring, and something in Mitch's chest had _shifted_ , clicking into place, filling him with light. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a dabble and then it just gew far beyond 100 words and here we are.
> 
> Am I biased that snow is romantic because snow makes me miss home a lot? ?? Maybe. Am I sorry about the fact it inspires trashy fluff??? No.
> 
> Ps: please kill me in my sleep I have 5 unfinished fic about these boys on my phone alone.


End file.
